


The Price of Happiness

by TheGreenMeridian



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: AU, Don’t copy to another site, First Time, M/M, male escort au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenMeridian/pseuds/TheGreenMeridian
Summary: On a rare trip outside of the Soviet Union, a lonely scientist hires some company for the evening and changes his life forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollyG35](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyG35/gifts).

> Courtesy of a prompt from Boisinberryjamarama on tumblr

He’d picked him from the listings partly because of the phrase ‘older gentleman’ (he couldn’t quite bring himself to hire one of the beautifully muscled men half his age) and partly because his bio claimed he was Russian. He was going by the name ‘Boris’, and though that was probably fake, when Valery had spoken to him in Russian he’d slipped into it with the grateful ease of a man speaking his native language for the first time in a quite a while. Another Russian would almost make it seem real. Like someone he was close to was actually making love to him, rather than the harsh reality that he was paying to lose his virginity at the embarrassing age of 40 in the impersonal surroundings of an airport hotel in Switzerland before returning to Moscow alone.

The man’s knock was businesslike, three sharp raps at exactly the time he had promised to arrive. Valery swallowed and dried his palms on his trousers. Gingerly, he opened the door and immediately felt his breath catching at the sight of his companion for the evening. The description ‘silver fox’ was clearly not a lie and the neat dark suit he was wearing accentuated his height and the sharp icy blue of his eyes. 

“Valery, yes? I have the correct room?” Oh, that voice. Even more gravelly and rich in person. Valery nodded and the man entered, removing his coat and hanging it up neatly. “How would you like to start, Valery? We can go for a drink first, or we can stay here. Whatever you want.”

Valery blinked behind his glasses and tried to force himself to speak. This ‘Boris’ was far beyond what he’d allowed himself to hope for and he felt acutely aware of how he looked by comparison. It was harder to suppress the feeling of disgust with himself for having to pay for companionship while knowing full well that a man like this wouldn’t look twice at him if money wasn’t changing hands.

“Sorry, I... would it be ok if we just stayed here? I can order some wine or something from the room service if you’d like?”

Boris chuckled. “I take it you haven’t done this before.”

“What?” Valery said with a flinch. Was his status as an ageing virgin so obvious?

“You haven’t used a service like this. Relax, Valery, I’ll order us some vodka.”

A stuttering nod signalled his agreement. He didn’t particularly like vodka but perhaps alcohol would calm him a little. It would be better for his nerves, he thought, if he just apologised and sent the man on his way but this was his last chance. And truth be told, he was lonely. Lonely enough that the depressing nature of having to hire someone to touch him didn’t outweigh the crushing need for physical contact. 

“They said it’ll be 5 minutes,” Boris said as he replaced the receiver. “Take a seat, tell me about yourself. What is a Russian doing in the capitalist West, anyway?”

“I’m a scientist. I was here for a conference. An inorganic chemistry symposium, actually.”

“Hmm. Well, science was never my subject at school I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Valery fidgeted with his hands. “And... what about you? Why are you here?”

“It’s complicated. I miss it, though. It’s been years since I’ve seen Moscow. Have you spent any time there?”

“Yes! Yes, I live there actually. I have for most of my life. Are you from Moscow? Originally, I mean?”

A knock at the door signalled the arrival of room service, and Boris rose gracefully to answer it, despite the chair being too low to properly accommodate his frame. With a well practiced hand, he poured them both a drink and regarded Valery with a curious look that felt terribly like he was looking into his soul.

“It’s not proper Russian vodka, but it’s still fairly decent. Drink. And no, I’m not. I lived in Moscow for many years before I came here but I lied in my advert. I’m Ukrainian. Donetska Oblast.”

Valery took his shot and tried not to cough. “So, why do you...”

“For the Westerners,” Boris said, pouring out two more shots. “Russians are a novelty. And most of them don’t know where Ukraine is. Or they think that the USSR is just another name for Russia.”

Valery dutifully drank and looked at the glass in his hands, unsure of what to say next. The alcohol was warm in his belly and he could already feel a pleasant fuzziness begin to overtake his head. “I know what you mean about being a novelty. Even men of science have a tendency to think of me as the ‘Soviet scientist’ rather than judge me on my merits. You’d think I’d be used to it after all these years but...”

Boris snorted, and Valery felt a flood of warmth that was distinctly unrelated to the vodka. It felt like he was seeing something of the real Boris. The man he was with real lovers, not clients. It was a dangerous thought. Boris undid the top buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie, revealing a thick neck and a tantalising patch of pale chest. As he threw his head back to swallow his vodka, Valery watched the muscles of his throat working. So masculine. So handsome. He shifted in his seat.

“You know, all the years I’ve been doing this, you’re the first Russian who’s called.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s nice, getting to speak the language again. Almost like being home.” Boris shook his head, clearing the wistful look that had crept onto his face. “So, Valery. Tell me what you want to happen tonight.”

“I want... I... Fuck, I’m sorry. Maybe this was a mistake, I’m not...” He began to rise but found himself anchored to his chair by a strong hand on his shoulder.

“No. We can end this now if that’s what you really want, but I don’t think it is. Tell me what you want from me, Valery.”

Valery shuddered at the heat radiating from Boris’ hand and the soft press of his fingertips. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

Boris rose to his feet and stood towering over him. He looked up the length of Boris’ body to mesmerising eyes regarding him with kindness.

“Stand up.”

He was shorter than Boris by around 10cm, though it felt more than that standing this close to him. His eyes closed as Boris took his face in one of those powerful hands and at the first, chaste press of Boris’ lips to his own, he felt his eyes grow wet with tears. So long without being touched. So long without knowing tenderness from another person. His body didn’t seem to know how to handle it.

“Sorry. Sorry, I’m... ugh, I’m making a fool of myself. You can go, if you want to. I’ll pay you, don’t worry.”

With inexplicable affection, Boris wiped the tears from his face with his thumbs as he cupped Valery’s cheeks. “I understand, Valery. It’s not easy for men like us in the Soviet Union. Allowing yourself to let go can be... difficult. But I want to stay. I can make you feel good. Give you something to remember when you’re back in Moscow.”

Valery let himself be pulled into another kiss, cautiously putting his arms around Boris’ back. He could feel the subtle ripple of muscles under his hands, even through Boris’ jacket and shirt, and he moaned at the feeling of  man  under his hands. Boris took advantage of it and slid his tongue into his mouth with finesse. He’d never been kissed before. Not like this. A few experimental pecks on the lips of girls in university, that was all. Nobody had ever devoured him like this. His tongue felt clumsy and inexperienced compared to the deft movements of Boris’ own, but as Boris’ hand came to rest on his lower back and the other tangled in his hair, he found it terribly hard to think about anything other than how good this all felt.

“Mmm, see? I told you, you want this. What do you want me to do to you, Valery?”

“I don’t... please, anything,”

The room seemed colder when Boris stepped away to remove his jacket and drape it over the back of the chair. Valery watched hungrily as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, baring well-toned forearms dusted with greying dark hair. “You have to tell me, Valery.”

Valery shuddered. “I... I want to touch you.”

“Then come here and touch me.”

He stepped forward nervously with fists clenching rhythmically at his sides. He had to do this, if he stopped now, he’d never have an experience like this again. The open neck of Boris’ shirt called to him, and he carefully traced a finger down Boris’ neck, over his Adam’s apple and around the edge of the loosened tie.

“You’re so handsome,” he said softly. “Not what I was expecting at all.”

“What, because I didn’t have a photo, you expected me to be ugly?”

“No! No, god no, I just meant... well, look at me. I didn’t expect to be... hmm, let’s just say that I’m not used to men that look like you.”

Boris roughly grabbed the hand teasing his neck and pulled it away. A flash of fear went through Valery, immediately turning to arousal as he was pulled into a fierce kiss, with Boris nipping at his lips and digging the fingers of his free hand into his back with a possessive grasp.

“You deserve any sort of man you want. Don’t talk like that.”

Valery whimpered. “Please. Oh god, Boris, I...”

“Your shirt. Take it off. I want to see you,” he ordered, releasing Valery from his grasp.

With trembling fingers Valery slowly unbuttoned his shirt, barely able to remain standing. The open shirt slid from his arms to the floor and he looked to Boris for further instruction.

“Now the vest.”

He swallowed. When he’d finally built up the courage to make the call, he’d hoped to get through the encounter with his top half covered, but he felt the inexplicable need to do exactly as he was told. Something about obeying Boris resonated with him in some unbearable, sinful way, and so, the vest was pulled from his body and dropped to the floor. He held his breath as he nervously awaited Boris’ scrutiny.

“Fuck, so many freckles,” Boris said, running his fingers over Valery’s shoulders. “Beautiful.”

He should have been more ashamed of how such simple praise caused him to harden. Boris was being paid for this, he tried to remind himself. He didn’t mean it. But the soft admiration in his voice sounded genuine. As though he truly did find Valery’s unimpressive body attractive.

“Strip completely, and lay on the bed for me. I want to see all of you, Valery.”

He stumbled over his feet as he kicked off his shoes, and stumbled again when he pulled his trousers from his feet. A blush of embarrassment was covering his body, he could feel his skin heating up with the shame of his clumsiness. Boris said nothing, though, as he waited patiently for Valery to shimmy free of his briefs and position himself awkwardly on the bed.

“You shouldn’t be so uncomfortable with yourself, Valery. Not looking like that. Now sit up and watch me undress, but don’t touch yourself. Keep your hands on those lovely thick thighs of yours.”

He felt as though he could cry again. Boris’ calmly commanding tone, the praise that fell so easily from his lips, it was shockingly arousing. Each layer Boris peeled from his body sent a fresh ache through Valery’s blood, his hands twitching as he kept them pinned to his legs. Boris looked stunning for his age, sturdy and toned, and the signs of age only added to his appeal. When he was down to his final piece of clothing, a pair of black boxer shorts that were as striking combined with his hair as the suit had been, he turned and Valery saw the well built back he’d felt during their earlier embrace. Movement at Boris’ waist drew Valery’s eyes from the play of muscle beneath skin across Boris’ back. The shorts fell to the floor without ceremony revealing a firm arse atop strong thighs. Valery swallowed. He wanted to touch. He wanted to kiss. He wanted to sink his teeth into the the flesh of Boris’ buttocks.

“I’m going to turn around now, and you’re going to look at me.”

Slowly, tortuously, Boris turned to face him and Valery felt a bead of fluid break free of his tip and run down the length of his cock as he finally saw Boris’ erection. It was big. Not that Valery had anything other than his own to compare it to, but it was obviously impressive. It jutted proudly from thick grey hair, hard enough his foreskin had pulled back to reveal a thick and swollen head. He unconsciously licked his lips. Dear god, the man was magnificent. 

“I would ask if you like what you see,” Boris said, loosely grasping himself, “but it’s quite obvious you do.

“Please...” Valery said weakly. The urge to touch himself was fast becoming overwhelming, his fingers were digging into his thighs hard enough he worried he would have bruises.

“Please what? You need to touch yourself, is that it?” Valery nodded. “No. Not yet.”

With a needy whine, Valery closed his eyes. “Boris... I can’t...”

“Yes you can. Just wait. And open your eyes, I didn’t tell you to close them.”

As he followed the command, Boris strode to the bed and climbed beside him. He removed Valery’s glasses and pried a hand from Valery’s thigh and kissed it.

“That’s it, Valery. You’re doing so good for me. Is this what you need, me being in control?”

“Yes, I... oh god, I want to touch you, please, let me touch you.”

Boris was immediately on him, kissing him, pressing his weight into him, grinding his cock into Valery’s hip. With frantic desperation, he grasped at Boris’ shoulders and rutted against the solid thigh between his legs. Every inch of him was on fire. The heat of skin against his own was almost painful and he shivered with need as he pressed harder into Boris’ leg. 

“Ah! Oh, f-fuck, I- fuck, sorry, I- oh god!”

He erupted, hips thrusting up and back arching off the bed as he spilled between them, quivering with the intensity of it and only slightly conscious of Boris gently kissing his neck as he rode out his orgasm. His muscles slowly went limp and he sunk back into the mattress, almost too struck with satisfaction to feel ashamed of how quickly he’d spent.

“Oh god... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... finish that quickly.”

Boris propped himself up on his hands and looked down at him with that strange affection again. “Not a problem. You have me for the whole night. Unless you’d rather stop now?”

“No! No, of course not. You’re still...”

He blushed, and Boris smirked at him. “I am. So, what do you want to do about it? You want to pull me off? Or do you want to suck me instead? Let me get something to clean you up while you think about it.”

Valery closed his eyes, the lingering pleasant fog over his mind not quite enough to distract from his disappointment. One night wasn’t enough, not if he was to experience everything he’d fantasised about all these long years. He should have phoned earlier, he should have booked more time, he should have-

“You’re not falling asleep, are you?”

“Oh! Oh, no, I’m fine. Honestly.”

A wet cloth was swiped across his belly, cleaning the evidence of their activities away. He shivered, though the water was warm. It was the action itself that caused it, Boris was being so tender, it was almost possible to believe they were really lovers. With a final swipe across his sensitive cock, which sent blood shooting south again, Boris retook his position above him and kissed him. It was slower, sweeter now, despite the insistent press of Boris’ erection. As though Boris was allowing him to savour his afterglow without pushing for more. The orgasm had taken the edge off his nervousness and uncertainty and with newfound confidence he chased Boris’ tongue, trying to imitate what he’d felt the man do to him. The low groan from deep in Boris’ broad chest was encouraging, and he wriggled until Boris lay cradled between his open thighs.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good,” Boris said, moving to suck soft kisses along his neck. “So responsive.”

“You- oh god, right there! You feel so wonderful, I want... in the draw, next to the bed. I have...”

Boris leaned across him and found the small bag Valery had put there earlier in the day after a terribly awkward trip to a pharmacy. He pulled out the tube of lubricant and raised his eyebrows.

“So, you did know what you wanted.”

Yet again, Valery felt his face grow hotter. “Yes. I want you to- to fuck me.”

Boris dropped the tube next to them and kissed him, wet and dirty, plunging his tongue into Valery’s mouth and not stopping until Valery was lightheaded.

“You should speak like that more, it suits you. Roll over. Let me get you ready,” Boris growled as he climbed off him.

Despite having come once already, he could feel himself filling out again and the growing heaviness was ample distraction from the discomfort of having his arse up in the air, baring such a hidden part of himself to Boris.

“Freckles here, too? I could look at you for hours.”

Valery tried to let himself believe that Boris wasn’t just providing a service with the compliment. The way he grasped his buttocks, stroking and squeezing him like he was something to savour was too wonderful to deny himself, and the soft groan of appreciation from behind him was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Tell me how you like it. This is all about you tonight.”

Valery tensed. He didn’t have a damn clue how he liked it. “I... however you want will be fine.”

“Fine?” Boris chuckled. “I usually try and aim for better than fine.”

The hands left his body, and he heard Boris squeeze some of the lubricant into his fingers. This was it, he realised. He was going to be breached for the first time in his life. A flare of panic, perhaps he should have had the courage to do this to himself instead of being too afraid of how much he might like it, too afraid of discovering yet another way he craved to be touched that could never be satisfied. He yelped as two slick fingers pushed into him without warning, feeling his body struggle to accept the intrusion and wincing at the pain of it.

“Valery, are you ok? Shit, sorry, I should have... hang on.” Gently, Boris eased himself free of Valery’s body and moved him onto his back. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”

Valery stared at the ceiling. There was no hiding it now. “I... No. I’m sorry, I... I didn’t want to bring it up. It’s humiliating, being a man of my age and being... well.”

Boris kissed him softly and Valery tried not to cry again. “You should have said something. I told you, I’m here to make you feel good. I’m not going to judge you.”

“I just... wanted something to go right, for once,” Valery explained as Boris stroked his chest. “I wanted to feel normal. Capable of this. Not just some... sad, lonely man having to pay to lose his virginity.”

Boris sighed. “When I said I understood what it’s like to be a man like us in the Soviet Union, I meant it. I had sex but it was always anonymous. Empty. Meaningful connections just... aren’t a possibility in that world.”

“No. And I never felt confident enough to seek out sex. The threat of being sent to a labour camp or a psychiatric hospital always hung too heavily over me for me to want to risk it. Besides, I’ve never been comfortable around other people. I wouldn’t even know how to begin trying to find other men like us.”

He was pulled into an embrace, Boris’ fingers weaving into his hair and pressing him into the crook of his neck. “I would like to show you what it can be like. Let me give you that.”

Valery nodded against Boris’ shoulder. His whole life, he’d waited for this. He couldn’t go home without having felt this properly, even if he ended up hating it, this was something he had to do. “Yes. Yes, do it. I can... I can handle it.”

Boris pulled back and regarded him skeptically for a moment before gently pushing his legs apart and coming to kneel between them. “Like this. I want to watch your face.”

He couldn’t help but close his eyes as a finger came to rest against his hole, not pushing in just yet, merely massaging around the edge and dragging across the sensitive skin of his entrance. The gentle attention slowly helped to relax and loosen his muscles, and when Boris finally penetrated him, his body gave way easily, almost hungrily, taking Boris’ finger in to the knuckle.

“That’s it, just relax for me. You’re doing good. You’re going to take me so well, Valery.”

Valery could do little more than whimper and accept the gentle motion of the finger within him. There was no pain this time, but it was a very bizarre sensation and he couldn’t tell if he wanted more or less of it. He got his answer as a second finger slid in alongside the first, producing both an uncomfortable burn and a strong sensation of  not enough. He groaned, wriggling his hips in a vain attempt for more, deeper, thicker

“Fuck, you were made for this. Opening up for me. Already getting hard from my fingers.”

With no warning except feeling Boris shift slightly on the bed, an all-consuming wet heat was suddenly upon him, sucking him deeper and surrounding his rapidly hardening cock. He swore, his eyes burst open in surprise to see the top of Boris’ head bobbing up and down, lips wrapped around him and his free hand steadying him at the base.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck, Boris! What... oh GOD!”

He could barely breathe. Couldn’t control his body, hand shooting down to grab at Boris’ head and legs shaking as his muscles trembled with the shock of unknown pleasure. Boris’ fingers were still thrusting into him, harder and faster and so unbearably good. The angle changed and he arched off the bed, breath and heart stuttering to a halt as his body struggled to take the sudden bloom of sensation from some wonderful, horrible spot inside him. A harsh squeeze to the base of his cock was immediately followed by the sudden loss of pressure around him as Boris pulled off to watch him writhe.

“Fuck, that’s it, good boy. Ride it out. You’re alright, just feel. I’ve got you.”

A desperate sob escaped his lips as he came dry, his balls aching with the cruelly unfulfilled need to empty. When the tremors finally began to die down, Boris was staring at him like he was made of gold. 

“Jesus Valera... you looked...” 

“I... oh... Boris...”

Fingers were still gently moving within him, blessedly avoiding whatever place Boris had found, simply massaging his walls through the aftershocks as he spasmed weakly around them. The orgasm had provided no relief, it had instead made the need for it unbearable and his skin was practically stinging with it.

“Tell me you want more. Fuck, tell me you want more,” Boris rasped, eyes wild.

Valery felt a shudder go through him. That he could inspire such obvious desire in another man was thrilling in the extreme. Boris wanted him, desperately so, if the shallowness of his breath and the sight of his dripping erection were to believed. And god, did Valery want him too.

“Fuck me. Please, fuck me. I need to come, Boris, please...” he panted.

Boris hurriedly slicked himself with a barely suppressed groan and hitched Valery’s legs around his waist. Valery felt the blunt press of Boris against his entrance and his muscles fluttered reflexively, fluttered again when the action caused Boris’ eyes to almost slide shut.

“Ready?” 

Valery nodded and hissed as Boris pushed forward, his thick crown sliding past his muscle with effort and stretching him wider. He felt as though he were being split in two. Surely his body couldn’t handle this, surely there wasn’t enough space within him for the sheer size of Boris’ cock. Boris pushed forward again, edging incrementally into him, opening him, filling him, spearing into him until he felt Boris’ thighs against his buttocks. He whimpered.

“Jesus FUCK you’re tight... you feel so fucking good, shit...” Boris said between gritted teeth.

“Please...”

He didn’t know what he was begging for, all he knew was that the sensation of Boris seated so impossibly deep within him was beyond overwhelming, stealing the breath from his lungs and forcing tears from his eyes. Boris took a deep breath and slowly pulled back. Valery felt the drag against his rim, sharp and almost painful beneath the strange joy of being stretched so wide. He bucked up, clenching tight, causing them both to cry out at the increased pressure. Boris drove in again with a more upwards angle and struck that place again.

“Ah! Nonono, too much, Boris, I- please, I can’t- I-“

“Shh, yes you can. Yes you can. You’re doing good. Just... shit... let your body feel it.”

He began rocking into him, slow and steady, dragging across nerve endings and filling him over and over. Pain steadily gave way to a delicious ache, the push against the absolute deepest point of him was divine. With long dormant instinct he tightened his legs around Boris and pushed up into each thrust. Whatever hardness he’d lost with the initial breach had been regained rapidly and his erection lay heavy and weeping against his belly, bouncing each time he felt Boris’ hips snap into him. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was force himself to keep his eyes open and watch Boris’ furrowed brow and clenched jaw. 

“Oh fuck, Valera... oh fuck, you’re taking me so well. So good, baby. So fucking good,” Boris groaned, the tendons of his neck taut with the obvious effort of holding back.

His head dropped, and suddenly they were looking directly into each other’s eyes. Boris froze above him. Valery swallowed, unable to look away. His breath caught in his throat. Something stirred in him at the soft shock in Boris’ gaze, and he reached up to touch his face with hesitant, trembling fingers.

“Boris...”

“Shh. It’s ok,” Boris whispered.

A slow, gentle grind began, so different from the soft savagery of his previous thrusts, never letting his eyes close or leave Valery’s own. Some strange energy burned between them, something Valery had never felt before was swelling in his chest with an intensity that made him want to weep. His mouth fell open with pleasure, soft gasps falling from his lips with each movement of Boris within him. Their eye contact finally broke as Boris dipped to kiss him with a tenderness Valery had never known possible. It was beautiful, he realised. Here, in this moment, nothing mattered but the two of them.

His body soon reminded him he had needs beyond whatever insanity he’d let himself fall into. As Boris kissed him, Valery felt his erection become trapped between them, and the friction was only the merest hint of what he needed. He moaned into the kiss, needy and demanding. He was desperate now. The emotional frisson between them had only heightened his need, Boris’ slow pace was as torturous as it was erotic, and Valery knew a powerful climax was building in him. 

“Boris, oh god, please, I need to come,” he gasped.

A lingering kiss and Boris pulled back, leaving Valery empty, his tired muscles spasming around nothing as his body protested the lost connection.

“Roll over. Let me give you what you need.”

He found himself positioned on his knees only briefly. Boris slid home again with a moan, immediately tugging him up into a sitting position so his back against Boris’ chest. Boris was even deeper now. That wonderful spot in him was being struck over and over as Boris’ strong arms held him tight and kisses were peppered across his neck. It was perfect. The sweat between their bodies, the soft slap of skin on skin... Valery was in an almost dreamlike state. He reached for Boris’ hand, and pulled it tight against his chest. Boris’ other hand snaked across his body, and tweaked at his nipple, before finally, finally wrapping around his cock and stroking him in time with each push up into his body. The intensity of the moment was rapidly overwhelming him and he let out a high pitched whine that quickly and became a yelp when Boris bit his shoulder.

“Shit... tell me you’re close, Valera. Tell- ah! Tell me where you want me to come.”

“In me,” he panted. “In me, come in me, I... oh fuck, Boris please, I can’t...”

The animal moan in his ear was such a sharp contrast to the tender way he was being touched and it pushed him further towards oblivion. He was so painfully close now, and even with Boris’ strong grip he was struggling to stay upright. He wanted it to end, he wanted to stay trapped on this knife edge for all eternity, he wanted to feel Boris spill inside him. Boris shifted beneath him and struck the spot perfectly, and he cried out as he went limp in Boris’ arms, shooting his release across the bed and clenching violently around the hardness inside him. Boris swore and grunted and pushed him down against his cock, pulsing inside him with harsh pants as he came with him, not letting go until they were both trembling with exhaustion.

Carefully, he was guided from Boris’ cock and lain on the bed, whimpering as he was left empty for the final time and twitching with an unexpected tremor of aftershock when he realised he could feel Boris’ seed dripping out of him. He felt utterly destroyed, utterly claimed. Boris collapsed behind him and dragged himself closer until he was once again pressed into Boris’ chest, once again feeling Boris’ breath against his neck. He’d never dreamed it could be like this. Not just the sex, not just the full-body satisfaction, but the sheer bliss of being with another person like this. Of having someone pressed against him, holding him, loving him.

Loving him.

Oh.

He drew a shuddering breath and struggled to hold back tears. What a fool he was. He’d let himself get swept up in this fantasy, forgetting that none of it was real. None of it meant anything. Whatever emotion he’d seen in Boris’ eyes was nothing more than part of a service that he’d paid for. And any emotion he’d believed to feel himself was just the desperate attempts of a lonely man to find human connection.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Boris whispered into his neck. “You’re shaking. Talk to me.”

“I just... I’m sorry. I... I think for a moment, I wanted this to be... more. Maybe... maybe you should go.”

Boris was still for a moment. “Valery, I...”

“No, honestly, I’m alright. It’s not your fault, really. This... it was good. Better than good. You were... wonderful. Truly.”

“If... that’s what you need.”

Valery lay, awkwardly aware of his nudity, as Boris rose and begin to dress. He pulled the sheets over himself and tried to steady his breathing. He wanted terribly to take it back, to ask Boris to stay and hold him while they slept, but he would only be torturing himself. He was thankful that his glasses were still on the side table, watching the judgement on Boris’ face would be too hard. The man moved towards the door, apparently done dressing.

“The money... it’s-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Boris sighed and Valery heard a dull thud as though the man had rested his forehead on the door. “Valery, listen to me. “You deserve better than some ageing fucking gigolo. You deserve better than living in a place where this is how you have to find a connection with someone. You... fuck, just find a way out. Find someone. Find something better than I did. You owe yourself that.”

And with that, Valery was alone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally here! It took me a while and several quite large rewrites, but I’m finished at last!

It was late when he finally returned to his flat from the airport. The interview when he’d handed over his passport was as unpleasant as they usually were, made all the more difficult by how miserable he felt. For an hour since getting back, all he had done was sit on his bed and stare at the wall, and absorb the depressing emptiness that had been there to greet him on his arrival. When his beloved cat had died a few months previously, any remaining sense of the flat being his home had died with her. Without her skipping up to him and headbutting his legs, coming back had been feeling increasingly like he was entombing himself and it was especially noticeable now. He rose and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table, the contents looking back at him, mockingly. He felt far worse now than when he left, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to take it out and commit to his original plan. Valery slammed the draw shut with disgust at his own cowardice, Boris’ voice ringing in his ears. A new life. A lover. Impossible.

A month passed. Two. The drawer remained closed, despite how empty he felt. Work passed by in a blur, though his colleagues didn’t seem to notice that he was barely conscious. He was not a popular man, he existed at the Institute as he had always existed in life: well respected, considered talented, but never truly known by anyone. It was something he’d always accepted about himself, but now, he found himself wanting to scream at everyone who passed him, ‘look at me, I’m here, I exist’. Boris had lit a spark within him and while he’d never been satisfied with his life, he’d been resigned to his lot since his youth. He knew now that there was more out there, that he was capable of more. That he could feel something other than a numb depression, even feel bursts of joy and find pure comfort in the embrace of another. It likely said something about the sort of man he was that an evening with a male prostitute had been so profoundly life changing, but he didn’t care. He could no longer accept that he was as grey and dull as his existence seemed to suggest. Even going through the motions as he had been before the trip seemed far beyond him now. 

Mail had been gathering steadily on his desk over the weeks, his usual disorganisation exacerbated by his malaise, the problem finally reaching a head when a stiff breeze through his office window sent envelopes scattering across the floor. As he bent to gather them up, one in particular caught his eye and sent his heartbeat racing. It was battered, sporting several creases and a very obvious tear that had been clumsily taped back together. In his experience, it could only mean one thing. The letter had come from outside the Soviet Union.

His palms were already sweating as he turned it over to see the postmark. It was Swiss. And there, in clear block print both Cyrillic and Latin, was his name. Slowly, hesitantly, he tore the envelope open and pulled the paper out, slumping to the floor in disappointment when he saw the letterhead. Just something from a Zurich university. Of course it wouldn’t be Boris. He skimmed the letter anyway, some pathetic part of him still needing confirmation that the letter was meaningless. Something seemed odd about it, however. He read it again.

Professor Legasov, 

I greatly enjoyed your appearance in Zurich. You were incredible and I was sorry to see you leave the stage. Despite its short length and knowing nothing about your work, I’ve never been as inspired by a lecture before and I wish it could have lasted far longer. I deeply regret not telling you at the time, I wasn’t sure that praise from a layman like me would be of any use to you. Nonetheless, I had to tell you, even if it is just in a letter.

If you are ever in Zurich again, perhaps we can share a drink. You can’t get Russian vodka here but I know a brand that’s almost as good.

Yours,

B. Müller.

His mouth was dry. The vodka comment, it had to be... He reread it, every sentence analysed until he could be certain that there was no other way to interpret the letter as anything other than a message from Boris, and what’s more, a message hinting at shared feelings. Could it mean that the connection Valery had felt was not imagined after all? Why would Boris go through the trouble of finding out his name and how to contact him, if he didn’t feel something meaningful? 

The rest of the day was spent in a daze and when he finally found himself back at home, he had to lie down. His head was swimming, so many questions now needed answering and he didn’t know where to begin. The one looming largest was whether or not he should try and get out. It was utter insanity to be even considering it based on one ambiguous letter from a man he’d known for barely two hours. He’d never let himself even imagine a life where he was free to find love. The few times the thought had slipped past his defences, it was easy to remind himself that the law of the Soviet Union was as much a barrier to him being happy with someone as his own personality, but now, with evidence that someone could actually feel something for him burning a hole in his pocket, it was much harder to want to deny himself the opportunity.

He sat up and pulled open his draw. The revolver lay untouched, nestled between an empty glasses case and a few candles for when the power went out. He had always intended to leave everything behind after that trip. Decades of loneliness and self hatred had pushed him to the point where escape seemed the only reasonable route. Was escaping by fleeing the country really any crazier? 

“For God’s sake Valery, listen to yourself,” he said aloud. 

He knew nothing of staging an escape, nothing of seeking asylum in the west. He’d be caught in an instant, surely. And even if he did escape, who’s to say that Boris would actually want anything to do with him? They didn’t know each other, he didn’t even know the man’s real name! And yet... no matter what reasons his mind formed to dissuade him from this madness, he kept coming back to one thing. 

Boris had called him Valera.

——

Valery frantically flicked through the pages of the paper, a desperate curse leaving his lips as he failed to find Boris’ listing for a fourth time. Not once in the year he had spent waiting for this moment had it occurred to him that he would be unable to find the man again. He’d planned everything meticulously, and despite his constant fear of being found out feeding into a fear that his nervousness would give him away, when he had reached his hotel unscathed and without being spirited away by a KGB operative posing as a taxi driver, he’d presumed that the hardest part of his escape was over. He’d phone Boris tonight, attend the first day of the conference tomorrow to keep up appearances, and then Boris could take him to wherever defecting Russian scientists needed to go in order to start new lives as Swiss nationals.

Except, he couldn’t contact Boris. And if he couldn’t contact Boris, that left him having to decide if he was really willing to defect alone, without help, and without a man he quite foolishly thought he could love. Valery could barely control his breathing as panic began to set in. A year of carefully hoarding cash and secreting it inside books and sewing it into the lining of clothing, a year of teaching himself German, a year of being terrified of every knock on his door... it would all be for nothing if he didn’t go through with it now. He’d promised himself that Boris or no, he’d not be returning to Russia but faced with the actual posibility of such a thing, it seemed impossible that he would be able to succeed.

The phone rang, making him drop the paper in shock. Hands still trembling, he picked up the receiver.

“Hello, this is Mathilde at reception. Am I speaking to a Mr Legasov?” 

“Erm... yes. Yes, that’s me. Is something wrong?”

“Not at all Mr Legasov. You have a guest, a Mr Müller? Would you like me to send him to your room or would you rather I tell him to wait here for you?”

He froze, mouth hanging open and fingers tight around the phone. That was the name on the letter. It couldn’t be him, could it? Müller was such a common name, it could be anyone.

“Mr Legasov? Are you there?”

He coughed and forced his useless tongue into speech. “Y-yes. Yes. Apologies. Did he say what he wanted?”

“Only that he was an old friend.” Her voice dropped lower, conspiratorial. “I can get rid of him if you like, sir.”

“No! Sorry, no, please, send him up. Wait! Actually, can you tell me what he looks like?”

“He’s an older man, quite tall, silver hair. Very handsome if you don’t mind me saying so. Do you want to see him?”

“Yes. Thank you, Mathilde.”

He felt weak. Dazed. It was really him. Boris had found him. Valery stumbled to the bathroom and looked at the mirror, hastily running his fingers through his hair to try and smooth out the wispy strands into something more presentable than the state he’d been left in after several hours on a plane. That would have to do, he supposed. The shirt needed changing too, it had a flight’s worth of sweat dried into it. As he began opening his suitcase to dig out something clean to change into, someone knocked at the door. Those same sharp raps he’d heard a year prior. He swallowed. Slowly, he walked to the door. This was it. He was about to find out if his madness was at all rooted in fact. He turned the handle and pulled the door open, revealing the man he’d waited so long for.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

And there it was. That wry smile that had lingered in the back of his mind all this time, affectionately teasing him and showing off Boris’ strong features in all their glory. Valery stepped back, getting a hint of Boris’ cologne as he stepped into the room.

“You... how did you know I was here?”

Boris looked him over before speaking. “I called the office that organised the conference. I’ve... contacted every international scientific event in the country since you left. Just in case.”

“Oh.”

For all his natural air of confidence, Boris looked distinctly out of his element. Valery could hardly believe he was looking at him, he half expected to wake up at any moment, hard and alone in his flat in Moscow as he had done on so many nights since he’d last seen the man.

“I apologise. I should have called you to ask if you wanted to see me. I understand if-“

“No!” Valery burst out. “No, honestly... I’m happy you’re here. When reception called, I was actually trying to find your number. I wanted to see you. Needed to, really.”

Boris reached for him hesitantly, smiling when Valery stepped forward and allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace. “I’ve missed you, Valery. As stupid as it sounds. Christ, we don’t even know each other.”

“I missed you. I thought... I hated myself for how I felt after you left. For- for feeling something for you. For thinking you might feel something for me. I told myself I was reading too much into what was simply good customer service. And then your letter came and I... please, Boris. Tell me I understood it correctly.”

The arms around Valery’s body squeezed him tighter and a soft kiss was pressed to his hair. “You did. Fuck, what have you done to me? Two hours with you and you’re all I can think about for a year.”

Valery let himself relax fully against Boris’ body, breathing in the scent of his neck and feeling across the reassuring solidity of Boris’ broad frame. Boris pulled back to look at him again and his sharp eyes, bluer than Valery had allowed himself to remember, flicked down to Valery’s lips briefly before he claimed them in a slow, sensual kiss. The noises of planes taking off overhead and traffic outside the window faded away until all Valery could hear was the wet sounds of their mouths and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“I need to know something, before this goes any further,” Valery said, pulling away. “What’s your real name?”

A second or two passed before Boris laughed, the sound of it beautiful to Valery’s ears. “It’s Boris. You thought I was lying?”

“Well... it’s a very obvious Russian name,” he mumbled.

“I suppose you’re right about that. Really, it’s Boris. And Müller is on my paperwork here, but I was born Boris Evdokimovich Shcherbina. Obviously, I already know you’re truly called Valery. A Russian scientist at an inorganic chemistry symposium, it wasn’t hard for me to find out who you were.”

Valery felt his cheeks beginning to glow, though whether it was from Boris’ rich laugh or the idea of him making the effort to track him down, he couldn’t be sure.

“A blush, Valera?” Boris asked, grinning and pulling Valery’s glasses from his face. “That was one of the first things about you that caught my attention. You were so easy to read. And the colour on your cheeks suits you, you have the face for it.”

He blushed harder, face tilting demurely to the floor as he fought between wanting to dispute the compliment or simply bask in it. Boris stopped him from doing either, tipping his face up with a finger beneath his chin and dipping down to capture his lips again. The kiss was as tender as the last but with an underlying heat that began to burn hotter as Boris backed him slowly towards the wall. His back hit, and he moaned at the weight and strength of the larger man pressing against him, leaving him utterly at Boris’ mercy. It was a position he would be happy never to give up.

“There is so much I want to ask you,” Boris said, moving from Valery’s mouth to his neck. “I want to learn everything, Valera. All of you.”

Valery hummed and bucked forward against the thick hardness pressing into his hip, wishing desperately that he was taller so that they might grind against each other properly. It was terrifying to consider allowing himself to be truly vulnerable, to bare his soul to this near stranger, but he wanted it more than anything. He wanted to be truly known by another, for the first time in his life.

“God, I’ve waited too long for this,” Boris said. “Touched myself so often, just thinking about your body. I want you, Valera.”

Boris’ voice was low, beautifully gravelly and full of a starving passion that mirrored Valery’s own. There was so much they needed to discuss, so much to learn about each other, but in that moment, all Valery could think of was getting to feel Boris’ hands on his body again, getting to taste him as he’d wished he’d had the opportunity to before. 

“Boris, please!” Valery gasped as teeth sank into his neck, the bruising pain sending a pulse though his body.

Boris gave a soft laugh and slipped his hand to Valery’s crotch, palming him loosely through his trousers. “You’re so easy to rile up. So hard for me already, you drive me wild. Let me get you naked, I want to see all those freckles again.”

Still crowding Valery against the wall, Boris unbuttoned Valery’s shirt and pulled it off him, the undershirt following it quickly to the floor.

“I only landed a short time ago, I haven’t had time to shower...”

“Valera, you’re perfect. You’ll always be perfect.”

Boris kissed him again, his hands roving across Valery’s bare chest and exploring him thoroughly. Each squeeze sent a combination of arousal and shame through Valery. Boris was strong, had looked after himself well and it showed. He himself was overweight and lacking in muscle tone. It seemed ridiculous that a man of Boris’ attributes should appear to derive so much enjoyment from his soft flesh but as Boris’ hands grasped his hips, fingers digging into the excess, it was hard to discount the covetous moan and buck of his hips as anything other than adoration for his shape. With fingers that felt far too thick and clumsy, he reached for Boris’ own buttons, needing terribly to feel that broad chest against his own again. When he fumbled a button for the second time, Boris took over and stripped his top half bare with admirable efficiency, stepping back to take in Valery’s panting chest and flushed face as he let the shirt fall from his body.

“Just as beautiful as I remember. All those freckles...” he said almost wistfully as he ran his fingers across Valery’s shoulders. “One of my favourite things to remember about our encounter.”

Valery felt his throat grow tight at the gentle, loving touch and the look of wonder shining in Boris’ eyes. Nobody else had ever looked at him in such a way, and he couldn’t doubt Boris’ sincerity this time as he had before. It was a strange feeling, to be treasured after so many years alone and unnoticed. 

“You... said things like this when we met. I didn’t believe you meant them.”

“I meant every word. Don’t get me wrong, giving compliments was part of the job but I didn’t have to make anything up for you.”

Valery pulled him close and buried his face into Boris’ neck, unable to process the emotions he was feeling. Boris’s hands continued to rove over his body, exploring and mapping him and sending heat straight to his core. It was exhilarating, being touched again and touching in return. Boris’ back was smooth and lightly muscled, and Valery couldn’t get enough of it. Nor could he get enough of the taste of Boris’ jaw, kissing and nipping across it, guided by instinct alone.

“When I saw you for the first time I could hardly breathe,” he gasped. “You were so tall, so handsome... I wanted you so badly.”

Boris swooped to nip at his ear. “I wanted you. Your hair was such an interesting colour, and those eyes of yours were stunning even with your glasses in the way. I couldn’t believe my luck. And your body, christ, you felt so good under my hands. You still do. Soft and smooth, that plump arse for me to sink my fingers into... fuck, I need you, Valera!”

With a well practiced motion, Boris unbuttoned Valery’s trousers and let them fall to the floor, his own following quickly. Valery gave a guttural moan as Boris grasped him roughly through his underwear. It had been hard to adjust to a sexless existence after knowing how good the touch of another could be and to finally have a hand other than his own around his cock again felt like a revelation. He pushed forward into Boris’ grip, craving friction and pressure and whining when Boris pulled his hand away.

“Patience, you can wait a little longer.”

“I’ve waited a bloody year for this Borja, please!”

Boris squeezed him again before sinking to his knees with a seductive grace and tugged Valery’s shorts to the floor. Valery was speechless. It felt like a dream, seeing Boris looking up at him through thick eyelashes, his mouth mere centimetres from his erection. It seemed too obscene a sight, something so erotic could not possibly be for his eyes. And yet the hot breath washing over his cock and the hand cupping his tender balls could only confirm that such a gift was truly meant for him. He swallowed, head falling back to hit the wall at the first exploratory swipe of Boris’ tongue. He scarcely doubted he could last long but he was determined to drag it out and experience as much of it as possible.

“Are you ok, my sweet? Do you want this?”

Valery nodded and cursed as Boris took him fully without warning, swallowing him to the root and nestling his nose in his copper pubic hair. The sensation of Boris’ throat working around him, the firm suction, the hand alternating between cradling and lightly tugging his balls, it was all too much. He was distantly aware of his legs trembling as Boris began slowly dragging his lips off him until only the swollen head remained encased in the heat of Boris’ mouth.

“B-Borja! Ah! Fuck, I can’t-“ he stammered as Boris’ tongue swept around his crown and flicked into his slit.

He could barely stay upright, it was surely only Boris squeezing his arse tight with the hand not currently occupied with his testicles that was keeping him remotely upright. Again Boris swallowed him down and again he swore. He grabbed for Boris, needing the security of holding his head to be sure that he wouldn’t collapse completely. He was close already, pressure building, sinking to the pit of his stomach in hot waves and threatening to burst, made all the worse by the vibrations and sounds of Boris moaning around his cock in enjoyment. Boris’ mouth was so hot, so wet, and each flex of his throat or swipe of his tongue was forcing the breath from Valery’s lungs. The hand on his arse moved to rest between his cheeks as Boris bobbed his head, and a thick finger began massaging the sensitive tissue of his hole. It was too much, the rising flames within him were threatening to consume him wholly. He tugged at Boris’ hair, unsure if he was trying to warn the man or hold him in place. Boris made the decision for him, pushing a knuckle hard into his perineum and giving a particularly firm press of his tongue to Valery’s crown, and he felt himself go flying over the edge.

“F-fuh- oh god I’m, Borja I... Ah!”

He slumped forward as he sobbed out his release, emptying himself into Boris’ waiting, willing mouth in what seemed like an endless stream of strong pulses. The stimulation quickly became too much and he squirmed weakly against the wall as Boris continued to gently suckle and lick at him. When he was finally released, it was only Boris’ quick move to grab him and take his weight that stopped him from falling to the floor in a satisfied heap.

“That’s it beautiful, let me carry you to bed,” Boris said as he scooped him up. Valery attempted to struggle in protest but Boris was having none of it and he had to admit, there was something quite thrilling about this show of Boris’ superior strength. He was placed gently on the bed, and Boris was soon atop him and kissing him. The bitter-salt of his release on Boris’ tongue sent a thrill through him, and Boris’ cock lay hard against his thigh, leaking as Boris rocked slowly against him. 

“What do you need, what can I do for you?” Valery asked.

“Anything, darling,” Boris said as he continued to grind on him. “As long as it’s you. Your hands, your mouth, your body... how could I want anything else?”

The burn he felt on his cheeks was inevitable. He looked up into Boris’ eyes, and for a moment, all either of them could do was stare at each other. It was a similar sensation to when Boris had been inside him, gazing down at him with a strange intensity. Only now, he was free to let himself feel the full force of it and read the truth of it, the obvious affection and want, the undeniable connection between them burning in his chest. He pulled Boris down into a kiss, hard and needy, twining one hand into Boris’ hair and grasping at Boris’ firm arse with the other. Boris groaned against his lips as his fingers sank into the taut muscle. Very rapidly, Boris seemed to be coming apart. The slow grinding against Valery’s hip had become frantic, and Valery could feel the slick on his skin spreading with every movement. To know he could have such an effect on Boris despite the gulf of difference in their sexual experience and the shapes of their bodies was intoxicating. He tightened his grip on Boris’ arse experimentally and the answering moan and shudder emboldened him to squeeze both cheeks simultaneously, pulling them apart and baring Boris’ entrance to the cool air of the room.

“Fuck, Valera, keep doing that and I’ll think you’ve got intentions...”

“Maybe I do,” Valery replied, surprised at his own boldness. “Would you want to...”

“I don’t think I’d last long enough. But fuck, later when I’ve taken the edge off.”

“You’d let me?”

“Are you kidding me, I’d fucking beg you for it.”

Speechless and with a mind swirling with images he’d foolishly considered impossible, he slipped a hand between them to grab at Boris’ cock and stroke him. Boris’ body trembled as he struggled to keep himself propped up enough to give Valery space to work his length. The heavy pulse of it in his hand and the needy whine at his initially slow pace confirmed to Valery that Boris was indeed close.

“Oh god, I need more. Faster, fuck, make me come for you. Stop teasing,” Boris grunted. “Waited too long for you, need to come.”

Valery held his hand steady and pushed at Boris’ arse to signal for him to take control, and it was with a grateful moan that Boris began to fuck his fist in earnest, lasting barely half a minute before crying out Valery’s name and shuddering as he spilled over Valery’s body.

A few moments passed before Boris rose and stumbled to the bathroom. He returned with a cloth, cleaned them both, then collapsed beside Valery and pulled him into a tight embrace. The furious desire from moments ago had left them and been replaced with the simple need to be held. Valery let his eyes fall closed, Boris’ warm skin and soft hair against him was calming, fulfilling a part of him he’d scarcely let himself acknowledge for most of his life. It was bliss. The subtle rise and fall of Boris’ chest could have easily dragged him into sleep if he wasn’t determined to stay awake and experience every second of Boris that he could.

“When do you go home?” Boris asked softly, breaking the silence.

Valery kissed him before answering, a lingering brush of lips that had his heart beating faster and his stomach in knots. “What you said to me, when you left seemed ridiculous, you know. The idea of starting a new life, leaving everything I knew, I’ve never let myself want that before. I’m sorry, it’s difficult to explain.” He exhaled and attempted to choose his words carefully. “Boris, I’ve been so unhappy for a very long time. I’m alone. I’ve always been alone. I don’t have friends, I’ve never been close to anyone. I had a cat, she was my only real company for fifteen years but she died shortly before the conference and I... I wanted to experience sex, just once, before I... ended things. So I called you.”

Lips pressed softly to the corners of his eyes, kissing away the tears that had escaped as he admitted his sins to Boris. Valery whimpered, fighting back sobs. Boris pulled him closer.

“I meant it when I said you deserve better than such loneliness. You are an admirable man, Valera. I knew it from the moment I met you.”

“How?” he sniffed. “How could you possibly?”

“You were terrified of calling, weren’t you? And you did it anyway. You showed your vulnerability where other men would have lashed out.” Valery laughed, a cold and bitter sound, and Boris slapped his shoulder lightly in admonishment. “I mean it. You think I didn’t come across troubled men, doing that sort of work? Men who had to confront that part of themselves and reacted by throwing a punch? And it’s legal here, you know. It’s not like back in Russia where you’re risking being sent to Siberia to starve to death in the frozen dirt. You were afraid of being seen, but you weren’t afraid of who you are. And there wasn’t a single moment where I saw violence in your eyes. You’re strong, in that respect. Stronger than many men like us.”

There was nothing he could say to that. To his shame, he had never thought much of how other men might struggle to come to terms with being a homosexual. For him, there had never been any doubt and while the implications had terrified him, he had never been conflicted with himself. He had always felt for those who’d been caught and suffered the terrible fate he had feared for himself, though. He’d never understood why it was considered such a crime, to love a man. To be attracted to another man. It was too natural for him, too easy, and as he’d discovered with Boris, a source of too much joy for it to be anything other than something pure.

Really though, was he really better than other homosexual men for having chosen to live a life of celibate fear? To his mind, there did not seem to be much virtue in his quiet shutting away of himself over another man’s default to anger. The root cause was the same, and the result was largely similar.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Boris asked, kissing his head again.

The instinct to brush the question off with a non-committal answer and protect himself from judgement was almost overpowering and he would have given into it were it not for the barely audible hum of satisfaction Boris made when he breathed in the scent of his hair. “I’m thinking that... perhaps you put too much faith in me. And perhaps... perhaps, I shall come up short.”

“You might. You’re only human, Valera. Maybe whatever perceptions you have of me will turn out to be bullshit, who knows?

“You know, I worried that anything I felt was just a result of loneliness. It stands to reason that a man with a life such as mine would develop an undue attachment to the first person he has sex with, don’t you think?”

“Fuck, don’t give me that. I’m not a scientist but I’m not stupid. You felt something for me that night and you feel something now and if it was just some... virginal schoolboy crush, you would have talked yourself out of it months ago.”

“And how would you know that?” Valery demanded, wriggling out of Boris’ arms and sitting up. A horrible and uncomfortably familiar bitterness was taking over, putting words in his mouth and setting him on edge. “You don’t know me, you don’t know how pathetically lonely I was, how desperate I was for any scrap of affection. Do you want to know what my perception of you was when I first met you? It was that you were stunningly attractive and that I was overweight, plain, and embarrassingly awkward and that it was abundantly clear that if I wasn’t paying for it, the chance of you having any possible interest in me was nil. That was my first impression of you. That you were beautiful and that I was nothing! So don’t sit there and tell me how damn strong you think I am because I am quite clearly not!”

His voice had raised to a near shout by the end of his tirade and he panted as Boris looked at him, silently taking it all in. Adrenaline flowed through Valery’s veins, sending tremors across his body and leaving tears prickling in his eyes. He glared at Boris, almost daring him to say something, to leave as Valery both wished for and feared in equal measure. But Boris did neither. Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, he reached for Valery’s hand and clasped it in his own. And there they sat, Valery’s trembling slowly dying down under Boris’ calm gaze until exhaustion took hold and left him wanting to weep. He felt his face begin to crumple and as though he had been waiting for it, Boris manoeuvred him back onto the bed and against his chest, and simply let him cry. When Valery’s tears finally began to turn to shuddering breaths and sniffs, Boris spoke.

“You don’t owe me anything Valera, but don’t try and push me away, because it’s not going to work. Look... I’m a practical man. I always have been. I don’t know why you, out of every job I’ve ever taken, or of every man I’ve ever slept with, affected me so much. But is it not possible that after years of successfully hiding the fact that I want to fuck men followed by years of having to make sure I wasn’t going to get robbed or worse, I might have gotten a skill for reading people?”

Valery nodded. “I suppose it would make sense if you’d developed insight into others as a survival skill, given the circumstances.”

“I’ve been other men’s first time, you know. Sometimes their first man, sometimes their first person at all. Some of them got... overly attached, afterwards. There have also been men that I’ve thought in another world, I could have felt something for them. Not once, either with men I’ve chosen or clients, have I felt a connection with someone like I have with you. For God’s sake Valera, I was more myself with you than I have been with anyone for years.

“You offered to just pay me and call and end to it before we’d even touched. You think that was the first time that happened? You think I didn’t agree to it every other time?” Boris sighed, and nuzzled into his hair. “I have to watch you fly back to that fucking place soon knowing it makes you even more miserable than it made me. Coming here cost me as much as letting me cost you, don’t ruin what time we do have by hating yourself. Please.”

The anger and despair in Boris’ voice was at odds with how carefully he cradled Valery’s body against his own, and for the first time, Valery realised that he was not the only one in unfamiliar and terrifying waters.

“I didn’t finish what I was saying earlier,” he began carefully. “I was unhappy when I returned, unhappier than I’d ever been because I realised what I was missing. When I received your letter it... woke me up, I suppose would be the best way to describe it. It energised me. And as afraid as I was of leaving, as impossible as it seemed, when I looked at my gun I realised that I was essentially planning on leaving in one sense of the word anyway. It made defection seem far less insane.”

“Valera, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I hadn’t intended on going home.”

Nothing could have prepared Valery for the sheer joy he felt at the tentative, almost childlike smile on Boris’ face. He laughed, feeling free for perhaps the first time in his life, laughing again when Boris’ eyes crinkled with happiness. It was his turn to initiate a kiss, in that moment no other action felt possible and he couldn’t deny himself the satisfaction of feeling Boris’ lips curving against his a second longer. The heat between them grew rapidly again, the kiss retaining it’s joy but taking on a harsh, needy edge that set the hair on the back of Valery’s neck on end with anticipation. Boris’ hand, which had once rested so delicately on the small of his back, was now gripping his arse with a bruising force. 

“You bastard, why didn’t you say something before?” Boris demanded, still grinning.

“I’m terrible at conversations like this, unfortunately. Though I suppose you’ll have to learn to get used to it. If you’ll have me.”

“If? If I’ll have you? Of course I’ll have you, what are you talking about?”

He found himself rolled without warning, coming to rest atop Boris’ body with his legs straddling Boris’ hips. A jolt of self consciousness rocked him slightly as it occurred to him how the position must emphasise the shape of his stomach, his rolls and creases, but the hands clawing at his body and the hardening length pressing hotly against his own was distraction enough.

“I haven’t had anyone since you. I stopped taking jobs, didn’t seek anyone out. It seems crazy but I just... couldn’t imagine wanting anyone, or being able to fake wanting anyone. Not after experiencing you.”

Valery felt his erection twitch, the feeling of being so coveted by a man he desired so strongly in return sent a pulse of desire through him strong enough that losing it completely untouched seemed a distinct possibility. Boris groaned, and when Valery opened his eyes again to look down, he realised why. He’d leaked enough that a large wet patch was smeared across Boris’ belly, the slick fluid glistening appealingly. Valery felt as though he had marked Boris as his own. Completely lacking in grace and surprising himself by not caring at all, he hauled himself off Boris’ lap.

“I want to... taste you. Teach me how?”

Boris nodded dumbly, seemingly speechless at Valery’s sudden display of confidence in his own desires. He looked achingly hard, somehow thicker even than Valery had remembered and so long that Valery could hardly believe he’d had the entirety of it within him. It didn’t seem possible. He took it in his hand and squeezed, enjoying the heft of it.

“Jesus, should have known you’d be a tease,” Boris said as he propped himself up on his elbows. “If you want to learn, get between my legs already.”

A small, unexpectedly cheeky smile was all he got in return. Valery released him, and the solid length fell heavily to his stomach with a dull thud, a noise Valery immediately decided was one he would remember clearly for the rest of his life. A quick rearrangement of their bodies, and he found himself between Boris’ strong thighs, his lips inches from his goal.

“Fuck, ok. Touch me. Slowly, with your hands - Ah! Yes, shit, just like that,” Boris instructed, Valery’s caress of his testicles sending a noticeable flush across his chest. They were plump, hanging loosely but beginning to tighten, and Valery found himself mesmerised by the way the skin moved as they drew closer to Boris’ body. He took Boris’ cock in his hand again, the skin like silk under his palm. Such a familiar feeling in his hand, and yet so different from his own.

“I keep wondering how I possibly managed to... take you,” he said in a near whisper. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

Boris made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. “You did, though. Felt like a fucking vice around me, too. You were so tight, but you took me so well. I’d love to have you bent over sometime, watch how well you stretch.”

Valery had to close his eyes for a moment to regain some semblance of control. But he refused to be distracted. Easing back Boris’ foreskin and steadying his cock at the base, Valery dipped his head and allowed himself a lick of the slick oozing from Boris’ slit, his tongue dipping in to chase the flavour of salt and musk. Boris’ hand came to rest in the back of his head as he hissed and spread his legs wider.

“Mmm, that’s it. Just do what feels natural to you.”

Bolstered by Boris’ clear enjoyment, Valery opened his mouth and lowered himself down the thick flesh until he could take no more, Boris’ thick head nudging at his throat. Boris was heavy on his tongue, stretching his jaw and tasting of sweat and skin and that intoxicating flavour of his leaking tip. Valery had always presumed that any pleasure gained from performing such an act was that of knowing your partner was enjoying it, but now, as he began to slowly bob his head, he knew that there was much pleasure to be found in the sensations of another man’s length in his mouth and another man’s taste on his tongue. He sucked, moaning around Boris’ cock as it brought a fresh burst of fluid for him to savour.

“Fuck, that’s good. You’re so good, don’t stop. Stroke me with your hand, that- Christ, that’s it.”

An ache was building in Valery’s jaw, but he pushed it from his mind as best as he could and tried to concentrate purely on his actions and the soft grunts and twitches of Boris’ hips they produced. The hand on his head provided no guidance, merely resting there without demand. Some primal part of him wished Boris would just use him, drive up into his mouth and hold him steady as he took his pleasure. But there was something inherently satisfying too about knowing it was his actions that were making Boris creep closer and closer to orgasm. But despite his best efforts, the pain around his jaw was worsening and with much reluctance, he finally had to pull off.

Boris smirked at him as he massaged his jaw. “Too much for you?”

“Your ego is, perhaps,” he replied. Boris laughed at that and Valery smiled back in return. He looked down, seeing his saliva glistening on Boris’ erection, and gave it a slow, loose stroke. 

“I’ll come if you keep that up.”

“That was the intention,” Valery said with a smile. He tightened his grip and continued to stroke Boris’ cock, watching the way a little more clear fluid escaped to ease the glide. Here, he knew what he was doing. One upside to his years of self enforced celibacy was learning how to satisfy himself and he was discovering that the skills were quite transferable. A tighter squeeze on the upstroke, an occasional slight twist and the firm press of his thumb against Boris’ frenulum soon had the man bucking into his fist and groaning low and steady. 

“Mmm, fuck, stop,” Boris said, stilling his hand. “I thought you had other intentions, hmm? Have you got any Vaseline hidden in the draw this time, my sweet?”

Valery froze. Boris had meant it, he actually wanted him to fuck him.

“Fuck! Sorry, no, I called you as soon as I got here...”

“Not a problem. Left side of the jacket, inside pocket.”

He quickly climbed off the bed and returned with a heavy blush and a pot of the required substance, Boris grinning and lazily stroking himself.

“Come here, beautiful. Get me ready.”

Valery nodded and positioned himself between Boris’ legs again. He looked so good laid out for him like this, so irresistible. With trembling fingers, he unscrewed the lid of the pot and looked to Boris for instruction.

“I haven’t done this since I was a student so... go slow. Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Yes. Do I just... inside you?”

Boris nodded and groaned as Valery carefully pushed past the tightly furled ring of muscle. The velvet heat of his walls and was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he found himself overcome with a primal need to feel it around his cock. He watched Boris’ face, his slack mouth and furrowed brow making him appear all the more handsome to Valery.

“Fuck, I’d forgotten how this feels. That’s it love, slowly. Going to take a while for me to get used to it again.”

“Why has it been so long?” Valery asked. “Do you not enjoy it?”

“I do but... ah, fuck... I usually prefer being on top and it’s- mmm- not something I like doing with people I don’t feel anything for.”

Dutifully and with a warm glow settling in his chest, Valery continued to slowly plunge his finger in and out of Boris’ body, watching as it was swallowed into his depths. He could feel the muscles slowly beginning to give way and when he looked up with a question in his eyes, Boris nodded. A little more Vaseline, and again he was pushing into him, two fingers spreading him wider. He watched with fascination as Boris’ hole spasmed noticeably around his fingers, wanting terribly to know how it would feel around his cock.

“Oh fuck, that’s it. Love your hands, such long fingers. Delicate. Bend them a bit for me- fuck! Oh fuck, perfect, keep- ah shit, right there.”

Boris was fully hard again now, leaking on his belly and twitching violently every time Valery felt his fingers push into the swollen gland he’d been directed towards. A cracked moan escaped him as Boris’ hips began rocking off the bed to meet his thrusts. It was becoming seriously doubtful that he’d be able to last long enough to get inside Boris at all, the man looked positively obscene, impaling himself on Valery’s fingers and grunting with need.

“Oh god, Borja, I need... please say you’re almost ready, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Boris grunted and shoved a pillow under his back. “Fuck, do it. Get in me.”

It took considerable effort not to spend as he slicked himself, considerably more at the sensation of the first breach of Boris’ twitching hole. Powerful legs around his waist pushed him forward until he bottomed out, fully surrounded by Boris’ fluttering walls.

“Fuck,” Boris panted, “Fuck you’re thick. Just... mmm, stay still. Stay still.”

Valery was thankful for it, he needed desperately to let his body become accustomed to the feeling of such heat and tightness and the texture of Boris’ walls around him. He’d known it was going to feel good, of course he had, but not in his most detailed fantasies had his mind managed to conjure up anything approaching the reality. Boris was breathing shallowly, his hands fisted in the sheets until finally he nodded with a grunt, and Valery began to move.

If he was unprepared for how simply being inside Boris would feel, he was beyond ignorant of how actually moving within him would feel. Every time he pulled back, he could feel Boris’ rim dragging against his length and every time he pushed forward, he could feel his head sliding through the taut flesh deep within his lover. It was divine, and knowing that it was Boris, his Boris, whom he was so perfectly joined to set a deep warmth building in his belly.

“Oh! Borja, you feel... oh god, I didn’t know... so good, so fucking good,” he panted, near delicious with arousal and sensation.

“So fucking thick, Valerka. Stretching me like this, god. Faster. Fuck me faster.”

Valery had never imagined that he could have such an effect on another man, that he could have someone begging for his touch. He drove forward, his body moving instinctively and practically without control, slamming into Boris’ willing body and pulling Boris into each thrust with his hands tightly around his hips.

“You... fuck, you’re merciless,” Boris complained. “Fuck, ‘m close. Right there, Jesus, keep going love, want to feel you come in me.”

Valery moaned as he desperately sought his release, feeling his balls tightening and the aching need in his belly begin to overcome him.

“Shit, fuck, I’m- Ah! Valera!”

Boris’ back arched off the bed and Valery looked on, mesmerised by the sight of Boris decorating his torso in three strong spurts as his cock pulsed hard, untouched. The sight of him coming, the shape of his throat with his head thrown back, the feel of his body clenching hard and rhythmically around him, it was all too much to bear a moment longer. He shuddered and groaned, crying out Boris’ name as he emptied into him, slamming him hips forward hard and grinding out his release. With a final shudder, he collapsed forward, still inside Boris. Nether moved for some time, both exhausted. It was Boris who eventually spoke first.

“Fuck... fuck, I haven’t come like that in years. You’re an absolute natural, you know that?”

Valery could only smile weekly against his cheek. Coming as hard as he had twice in one day was catching up with him, as was the jet lag and emotional energy he’d spent. He slipped into an easy sleep, coming to an hour or so later, clean and comfortably tucked against Boris’ chest.

He stretched, and felt Boris pull him a little closer and kiss his forehead, and for a long while, they lay quietly, hands wandering lazily over each other’s bodies. As the fog of sleep slowly began to ease, Valery found himself needing to speak. 

“I think I could fall in love with you,” he began. “And obviously I had my own reasons, good reasons, for wanting to leave, but you must know that you were a big contributing factor. I’ve never had anything even approaching a relationship and even if I had, this situation is so bizarre, I would still be out of my depth.”

Boris was silent a moment, and Valery tried not to begin speaking again to fill the air.

“I don’t want you to... commit to something if you’re not certain, or because I’m the only person you know in the West.”

“Boris, you were so understanding when we met, so tender. You seemed to know instinctively what I needed in the moment. You relaxed around me from the start and I felt as though I was seeing a side of you reserved for your true lovers. When I asked you to leave, it was because it hurt terribly to be around you and have what I so desperately wanted from you while thinking it was a lie. I would have much rather slept in your arms, believe me.”

Boris sighed. “I’ve never been in a serious relationship before either Valery, despite my age. It scared me too, how easily I found myself falling for you. I can’t promise that we won’t end up discovering we’re a terrible match or end up hating each other but damn it, I want to have something with you. Something real.”

And that was all Valery needed to hear. Despite the risks, despite everything, he wanted to try to make a life for himself that included Boris. 

——

Boris stood in the doorway and quietly watched Valery as he scribbled something in his messy handwriting in the margins of the paper he was reading. The man’s hair was a mess, a forgotten cigarette was smouldering in the full ashtray, and he had his lip caught between his teeth, exposing the gap that Boris had always found so cute. Sleeping on a stack of papers was the street cat Valery had somehow acquired within weeks of being given a flat by the Swiss government, a loud, skinny little runt of a thing that seemed as prone to messiness and disarray as Valery. When he had moved in with Valery not long afterwards, despite their intentions to be sensible and take their relationship slowly, he had learned to make his peace with having to clean up after the pair of them. It was worth it, despite his grumbling to the contrary. 

Boris cleared his throat and Valery looked up, squinting as his eyes readjusted from staring at small print. “Oh, you’re home! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Hang on, I’ll help you put the shopping away,” Valery said, shuffling away his papers into an uneven pile.

“No need, it’s already done. I’ve been back for 10 minutes, you really didn’t hear me, did you?” Valery looked appropriately chagrined and Boris smiled broadly. “It’s alright. But come, let’s go for a walk, hmm? It’s a beautiful day outside, you’ve had your head buried in work for hours.”

It truly was a nice day, and though Boris did want Valery to get some fresh air, he also had the ulterior motive of enjoying how prominent Valery’s freckles became when he got out in the sun for a while. They strolled down the street together, just close enough that their arms brushed occasionally. Legal or not, openly holding hands or linking arms could still draw unwanted attention and while he was more than willing to tell people where to go if they commented negatively, Valery preferred to avoid notice.

It was hard not to laugh when Valery tutted as a new Ferrari, glinting in the sun, sped past them. Two years in the decadent West and he had yet to get used to the sports cars and luxury jewellery shops that were so ubiquitous to Zurich. Boris had been afraid of him fainting the first time he’d seen the price of a Rolex in one window, considering how pale he’d become. A city so filled with wealthy capitalist bankers was quite an adjustment for a Soviet man, and while he himself was used to it by now, he understood Valery’s horror at it. His own reaction to the ease of life in the West, having lived through famine and war, had been similar.

Valery nudged him, breaking his reminiscing. “Boris? Are you alright?”

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just looked... odd, for a moment.”

Boris chanced a peck to Valery’s cheek and laughed at the instantaneous flush he left behind. “It’s nothing, honestly. I was lost in thought.”

“That’s usually my job, isn’t it?” Valery said, a self deprecating smile gracing his handsome face. 

Boris chuckled and resumed walking, wanting to put his arm around Valery’s shoulders. His Valery. Brave, smart, utterly disorganised and an absolutely insatiable lover. The great love of his life. He turned down a street that would, in a roundabout way, lead them home via Valery’s favourite bakery. Boris wanted to treat him to something sweet, as he often did on days Valery worked from home. It was necessary to force him to take a break and he’d found that a chocolate eclair was ample distraction, not least because his own reaction to watching Valery lick excess cream from his fingers usually had the man dragging him to bed as soon as possible. 

“You know, summer break will be starting at the university soon,” said Valery. “I was thinking, perhaps we could take a holiday somewhere this year. Magda from upstairs would be happy to take Shyshka for us, I’m sure.”

“Did you have anywhere in mind?”

“Austria, perhaps? Vienna’s architecture is supposed to be quite beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard. And I’m sure the famed pastry chefs have no influence on your desire to see Vienna?”

Valery blushed, a smile creeping on his face as he realised how close to the bakery they now were. “Why do I get the feeling that you’d be just as interested in seeing me eat Viennese pastries as I would be in eating them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Boris said as he pushed open the door. “Now get in there and choose something dripping in cream for us to take home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, Shyshka is based on a kitty in the Carpathians who kept coming in my room and sleeping on my bed!

**Author's Note:**

> thegreenmeridian.tumblr.com


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